I almost told him so many times, but every time I chickened out. How do you tell a mafia boss that you’re a virgin without coming across as young as you actually are? I’m constantly conscious of the fact he’s twelve years older than I am, and it’s always playing on my mind, how long can I hold his interest?
I thought at least if he thought I was somewhat experienced, perhaps it would win me some points, but the mixture of possession and anger in his eyes makes my core tighten.
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I mean, what am I meant to say? I don’t really know what I was expecting. Of course he was going to notice that I was in noticeable amounts of discomfort, and there was a really good chance I was going to bleed. But then again I suppose I thought once it was done, he wouldn’t care. Why would he? It’s not like Storm Saint James is the kind of guy to cover a bed with roses and make your first time special. He’s the kind of man who takes what he wants, when he wants and makes no apologies for it.
Except somewhere in the intense gray of his eyes is an emotion that doesn’t belong. Regret.
“Ayvah,” he rumbles again. He’s perfectly still now, only the head of his cock lodged inside me and it’s driving me crazy. I need him to take away the fire he’s stoked in my core, but something tells me he’s not going to move until I say something.
“It’s not a big deal,” I whisper the first words that come to my mind, because to a man like him, it’s not. I don’t even want to hazard a guess at the number of women he’s been with, why would my virginity matter?
“Not a big deal?” He growls. I don’t know whether to be turned on or scared by the intensity of his glare right now. “It’s your virginity, Ayvah. I’ve been too rough. You should have told me. I could have really hurt you.”
I stare at him for long moments, trying to find words to respond. He cares about my comfort? He cares that this was my first time?
“Damn it, baby girl.” He pulls back but I quickly wrap my legs around his waist and tug him forward again.
“Don’t stop.”
“I don’t think I can be gentle with you right now. I’m too wound up, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t want you to be gentle.”
His eyes flash with darkness and I tighten my legs around him. If he really wanted to, he could pull out of me, but the fact that he hasn’t gives me hope that he might still continue. “I’m a monster, Ayvah, but even I’m not that much of an asshole.” His words are cold, making my chest ache. He’s about to pull away, I can feel it, and even if a few weeks ago it was all I wanted to be let go and be away from this man, now there’s nothing else I would hate more.
“Please, Storm,” I whisper. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes as I wait for rejection to come. I should have known this would happen. I should have known a man like Storm would never want to be with a silly little girl like me. Not when he could have any woman he wants.
The anger in the gray is replaced with worry as they focus on the unshed tears, and then his thumb is brushing softly across my cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you, Ayvah.”
“You won’t. Please don’t stop,” I plead.
He considers me for long moments, his eyes perusing my face as if he’s looking for doubt, but he’s not going to find any. I’ve never had any grand ideas of what losing my virginity would be like but losing it to someone who captivates my mind and body seems like a better option than how most people my age lose theirs. “I want you to tell me immediately if you’re uncomfortable, or if it hurts too much. I’m going to take it as easy as I can, but I’m not a gentle man.”
“Please.”
He brings his face down until our lips are just a breath apart. “I will be the only man that ever enters your tight cunt, Ayvah. Giving this to me is like signing your soul over to the devil.” And then he’s pressing forward in a firm thrust until he’s completely seated inside me.
A scream bursts from my throat at the sudden fullness. It’s painful, but not in a bad way. The slight burn and the way he looks down at me with rapture only has pleasure pooling in my lower belly, and I want more. More of Storm. More pain. More of this.
“Are you okay?” he grunts, holding perfectly still deep inside me. His jaw is ticcing with tension, the muscles in his bicep shaking beneath his need to do what comes naturally to him.
I nod. “I need more.” The words slip from between my lips on a breathy moan and the moment they do, a fire ignites in his eyes. He braces his other hand on the mattress beside me and starts a gentle rhythm in and out of my sensitive pussy.
“Fuck, Ayvah. You feel like heaven,” he groans. “I could spend the rest of my life inside you and die the happiest man that has ever walked the fucking planet.” The rapture in his words has my heart beating so hard in my chest I can barely breathe through the heavy thumps. He shouldn’t be saying things like that, making promises he can’t keep. We both know I’m not a permanent fixture in his life. I can’t be, no matter how natural it feels to come together like this.
He shifts his hips slightly and the new angle tears a cry from my throat. Oh my god. I never knew I could feel so full, and yet so complete at the same time. The sentimental part of my mind wants to believe we could be more than just a short-term thing, but I know better than anyone that the only true things in fairy tales are evil stepsisters and villains who want to sell your soul for their own gain.
I press my face into the crook of his neck, desperate to break the intense eye contact. Storm seems to see everything, and I’d like to hide my own doubts from him for as long as I can. Call it self-preservation or naivety, but it’s best he doesn’t know that I know this is temporary.
His lips brush across my throat as his strokes become harsher. He’s trying to be gentle, but he was right when he said a man like him doesn’t know the meaning of the word, and I don’t want it anyway. I want his hardness. I want his brutality. I want the man I’ve fallen in love with to be exactly who he is. A monster to the rest of the world, but my own knight in shining armor.
He sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of my neck and pain tears through my body, adding to the unexplainable pleasure he’s bringing me. I’m getting closer to the edge, but I’m not sure how I’ll survive another orgasm like the one he gave me before. It was too intense, and left my body feeling impossibly sated, but the closer I come to another earth-shattering climax, the more I wonder if my body can truly handle a man like Storm.
“I’m not going to last,” he grunts. “Your cunt is like a fucking paradise, begging for my cum.”
“Storm, I can’t. It’s too much,” I gasp as his cock presses into the place inside me that threatens to detonate me like an atomic bomb.
“It’s never enough, Ayvah. You and me, it will never be enough. No matter how much I fuck you, no matter how much of your sweet body I claim. It will never be enough.”
His words drag me right to the edge until I’m balancing on the precipice of an abyss I fear I won’t be able to drag myself out of. Because when this inevitably ends and Storm moves on with his life, I’ll be left with nothing but the memory of the way he played my body and how my heart fell for a man so dark, it should have known better.
“Come for me, baby girl. Come around my cock,” he demands and as if my body were waiting for the command, I slip off the edge and freefall into an overwhelming pleasure that takes my breath away. My whole body tightens, the tension in my limbs so tight it borders on pain, and then it all releases as wave after wave of intensity washes over me.
At least when this ends I’ll have the memory of how it felt to be truly free.
